Not Of Flesh And Blood
by Snafu1000
Summary: Post 3X10. She knew as she spoke that she was no longer suggesting an option; she was voicing a decision. One that she'd made the moment five tiny fingers had gripped hers.


_Author's Note: Another one shot, because I felt like doing something less angsty. It could conceivably take place after the events in JJE, and would definitely have been preceded by 'Crossing Lines'._

* * *

"Well?"

Jane regarded Maura expectantly. It was after hours, and the morgue was deserted, except for the Chief Medical Examiner and the Rizzoli family.

Most of it, anyway. Frank Senior was still MIA, but Jane wasn't feeling any particular urge to look for him, since if she saw him, she'd probably do something that would get her arrested. Her mother stood at her side with Frankie beside her and Tommy hanging back a bit, looking like a defendant in a capital murder case waiting for the verdict from the jury.

And in Jane's arms was the newest member of the Rizzoli family, all of three days old, sleeping peacefully after a day of being the center of attention in the Division One Cafe. All day long, Jane had kept finding excuses to wander downstairs, stop by on her way in or out of HQ, peek into the carrier, hold him for a few minutes, maybe give him his bottle.

She had it bad, and she had no idea how it had happened. How could you possibly get so attached to something that had done nothing for the last three days but eat, sleep, shit and squall? (Particularly with the knowledge that, since he was a male, he'd never grow out of it?) But she had. When she'd opened the door and found the baby carrier on the stoop, she'd been all ready to unleash a string of frustrated invective at Lydia, Tommy, her father and the universe in general, because after the day they'd all had, the last thing they needed was _this_.

And then, she'd picked up the kid, and he'd opened his eyes, dark and hazy, and she'd almost instinctively reached out, laying a finger in a tiny hand and watching as five perfect, tiny fingers closed around her one.

And that had been it. She'd been lost.

And as it turned out, having a baby around had been _exactly_ what they'd all needed. Focusing on his care had given Maura something to think about besides how close she had come to being Dennis Rockmond's last victim; given Jane something to think about besides those hellish seconds with her finger on the trigger, Rockmond's knife at Maura's throat and his feet at the edge of a three-story drop; given Angela the grandchild she had been yearning for (which, given the apparent propensity of her children - even the adopted ones - to attract lunatics, didn't seem likely to be happening the old-fashioned way any time soon). The three women had spent the last three days in a cocoon of domesticity, taking turns feeding, changing diapers, rocking. Frankie had been a frequent visitor; Tommy had been nearly as scarce as their father. It should have all had Jane climbing the walls, but she had actually felt a slight but definite regret at returning to work today...and more than a touch of trepidation, since they had decided what they were going to do.

_Please, let him be Tommy's._ Her mother had an almost unbelievable capacity for love and nurturing, but helping to raise her ex-husband's love child was something that no woman should be asked to do. Jane knew that she _would_ do it, without being asked, but it would hurt her more deeply than anything Frank had done yet.

Maura bit her lip, looking at the test results with an anxious expression, and Jane felt her stomach twist with anxiety. "He's not Tommy's," she announced hesitantly. By mutual but unspoken agreement, they had yet to name him, had not yet even discussed the matter.

Jane's head snapped around at Tommy's exultant, "Yes!", and she saw the relief on his face melt into dismay as he saw Angela sagging against Frankie and realized that his sister was holding their bastard half-brother.

"But he's not Frank's, either."

"What?" Her startled query was echoed in startled triplicate, and her head snapped back around abruptly enough to jar the sleeping baby to wakefulness with a hesitant cry - the one that meant that he hadn't yet decided if he was upset enough to go into a full-lung howlfest.

Cradling him closer, she rocked him back and forth, humming softly until his eyes drifted closed with a hiccup and a sigh. It surprised her how easily it had come to her. She'd always had a soft spot for kids, and the cases where they were the victims were the ones that tore at her the most, but despite her mother's none-too-subtle prodding, she'd been in no hurry to have a child of her own...maybe because she'd seen too many times the particular brand of hell that parents went through when something happened to their child.

She'd taken the lead in this without thought or hesitation, though, every protective instinct she'd ever had on the job crowding back to the fore in response to this tiny, helpless being that fit so perfectly in her arms. Satisfied that he was back asleep, she raised her questioning gaze to Maura, trying to wrap her mind around the words. "You're sure?"

Maura nodded, still looking anxious. "There's no doubt," she replied, turning the computer monitor so they could all see, though Frankie and Jane were probably the only ones who could make any sense of the seemingly random jumble of lines. "The genes of his Y chromosome are completely different from Tommy's, and the Y chromosome is passed from father to son, so if the Y chromosome isn't from Tommy, it can't be from Frank, either. There are other differences, but that's the one that really clinches it."

"That little whore!" Angela exclaimed, then clapped her hand over her mouth, looking at the infant with a guilty expression.

"If that's his first word, Ma, we'll know who to blame," Jane told her wryly. She still hadn't quite gotten used to hearing such language from her mother after the number of times her own mouth had been washed out with soap, but if it helped her deal with having a sorry piece of shit for an ex-husband, she wasn't about to lecture her for it.

"Damn...no wonder Pop dumped her," Tommy said incredulously. As though finding out she'd screwed his son wouldn't have been reason enough. "I _knew_ I wasn't the father!"

Angela turned and fixed him with 'the eye'. "Don't think this lets you off the hook, mister."

"Aww, Ma! I _said_ I'd use a condom from now on!"

"Jesus, Tommy, you really think that's the only problem?" Frankie demanded in exasperation.

Jane let the squabble fade to the background. Easy enough; she'd been listening to it - when she wasn't actively participating - for most of her life, and right now, there was a more pressing issue. "Guess that explains why she didn't want the paternity test," she murmured. She should be mad right now, shouldn't she? Lydia had lied to them all, taken advantage of her mother's generous nature and then dumped the child of another man on Maura's doorstep. She stared down at the tiny face, waiting for the outraged inner voice to start clamoring that this was _not_ a Rizzoli baby.

Nothing.

"Janie?" Angela peered up at her, then down at the baby, clearly uncertain. "What do we do now?"

It was with no real surprise that Jane realized that they were all looking to her, including Maura, who still wore an expression of worry. "Well," she said slowly, "seems to me that we have three choices."

"One, we hand him off to Lydia's mother, since she's the only next-of-kin that we know of." She wouldn't have done it, and she could tell from the look on Maura's face that the notion was unacceptable to her, as well. They'd only met the woman once, but that had been more than enough.

"The woman is a drunk, Jane!" Angela said in dismay. "And a bitch! My God, look how Lydia turned out!"

"I know, and she probably wouldn't take him, anyway," Jane replied, though it wasn't Lydia she was thinking about, but Dennis Rockmond. She had zero sympathy for the psycho bastard he'd turned out to be, but she would always wonder if there had been a point at which the child he had been could have been rescued, protected, raised to be a normal human being. "Lydia said she didn't like kids. Two, we turn him over to Child Protective Services. Chances are good that he'll be adopted quickly." Better than good, honestly. He was white and healthy; Lydia had been a moron, but she'd stayed away from drugs and booze during her pregnancy. It was the most logical option; Tommy was nodding his agreement, but Jane could hardly miss the fact that no one else - even Frankie - was following suit. Or the ache in her own chest at the thought.

She took a deep breath, looked back down at the sleeping infant."Or...I could keep him." She knew as she spoke that she was no longer suggesting an option; she was voicing a decision. One that she'd made the moment five tiny fingers had gripped hers, one that had nothing to do with flesh and blood and everything to do with what she'd been trying to get across to Maura for months.

Maura knew it, too. The worry vanished from her face, and she lit up like a kid at Christmas. "I'll help," she promised immediately.

"We all will!" Angela declared, beaming at her daughter with a pride that three citations for courage in the line of duty hadn't come close to earning. "Won't we?" Her eyes shot to her sons, who were wise enough to nod immediately, Frankie with considerably more enthusiasm.

"Well, sure," Tommy conceded, visibly brightening as he realized his role would be uncle, rather than father. "I'll babysit, teach him how to play ball..."

"You?" Frankie scoffed. "If we want the kid to be able to actually _play_, I'll teach him!"

Jane again let the brotherly B.S. fade from awareness.

Maura left the computer and approached with a warm smile. "I don't think there will be any trouble at all getting Child Protective Services to grant you custody," she observed quietly, reaching out to run her fingers along a soft cheek, brushing through the surprisingly thick, dark hair that peeped from under the knit cap, the tender, wondering look on her face making it clear that she had it just as bad as Jane did.

"Probably not," Jane agreed, her eyes drawn back down to her son's face. Her son. The thought was stunning but inescapable. She loved this little guy...honest to God _loved_ him with a fierceness that frightened her more than a bit. What if something happened to him? What if Lydia returned and wanted him back, or the sperm donor showed up? Losing him would tear her up, and it would be worse the longer she had him. "This is nuts. You know that, don't you?" At least as crazy as shooting herself, or walking unarmed in to deal with a group of armed and desperate bank robbers; and yet, just like those other moments of craziness, she couldn't conceive of doing anything but exactly what she was doing right now.

"Yes," Maura agreed unexpectedly, hazel eyes gleaming with gentle amusement and understanding, "but it feels right, too, doesn't it?" Jane didn't bother to reply; they both knew the answer. "A child couldn't ask for a better family."

"The same one that gave the world Tommy?" Jane inquired sarcastically, glancing over her shoulder to where her brothers had moved on to arguing whether he should learn basketball or hockey first, while Ma was reminding them both of every injury they had ever received in sports.

"Tommy's not bad," Maura replied, her voice politely discreet. "He's just...immature. It also gave the world you and Frankie, too, and that was a very good thing."

She felt her face flush at the compliment. She'd missed the clues that had to have been there, chalked up her instinctive dislike of Dennis to more mundane reasons, like his too-perfect hair, and the fact that he'd nearly gotten her best friend charged with misdemeanor vandalism. Maura had nearly died because she had misread her own gut instincts, and the M.E. could still look at her as someone to be admired, trusted.

Panic started to rise. "Maur, what do I know about being a mother? What if I screw it up and turn him into another Dennis?"

Maura shook her head, watching her solemnly. "That could never happen." There was not a hint of doubt in her words. "You care, Jane, and you love, and you protect the ones that you love. That is something that Dennis never had, and it is something that could never damage a child the way he was damaged. Or the way I was."

Jane stared at her friend; it was the first time she had ever heard Maura refer to herself as damaged. "Maur -"

"This baby will never wonder if he is really wanted, really loved," Maura went on, her voice steady and earnest. "From his earliest days, he will be a part of a family that loves and takes care of each other, no matter what, and that is what will shape him. He will have a mother who loves and protects him, the best grandmother in the world, two wonderful uncles who will provide male role models, to say nothing of Barry and Vince -"

"And a fantastic aunt who'll give him his first microscope and chemistry set and teach him fencing," Jane added, putting in the last with a deliberately disparaging smirk as she saw her friend getting misty-eyed the way she always did when she found herself included in the Rizzoli family.

It worked. The hazel eyes dried up and narrowed. "I could teach him ballet, instead," she suggested sweetly.

Jane didn't take the bait. Maura had dragged her to a ballet once, and the dudes in the tights had actually looked pretty hot.

"We can negotiate once he starts walking," she suggested. "For now, let's get back to your place before he wakes up hungry." At some point, she was going to have to figure out how to reconfigure (not to mention childproof) her apartment for a baby, but for now, she was quite happy to crash in Maura's guest room with the bassinet beside the bed and have her mother's experience and Maura's Google brain there to help her figure out what the hell she was doing.

Maura nodded. "What are you going to name him?"

Jane shrugged as best she could with her armful. "Not sure," she said, bending her neck to press a kiss to the soft skin of his forehead, breathing in the smells of formula and lotion and talcum powder and a sweet scent that seemed to belong to him alone. It calmed her, stilling her doubts and strengthening the conviction that her choice was the right one. She lifted her head to regard her friend. "I figure if he's going to be a Rizzoli family project, we should all have a say in his name, right?"

Maura smiled at her. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Shall we discuss it over Thai?"

"God, yes!" Jane groaned as her stomach gurgled at the thought of it. She jerked her head toward her mother and brothers, who were still at it. "Get them moving and we can call it in from the car."

* * *

_Consider this my official prediction for November. Maybe not them keeping the baby, as that would likely be tricky to write scripts around long-term. I expect they'll have him for an episode or two, then say goodbye in some heartstring-tugging manner._


End file.
